


Bound

by slytheringurrl



Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Neal is the best FBI agent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4009966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytheringurrl/pseuds/slytheringurrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal Caffrey's always thought that he's escaped from his past.  Unfortunetely, some things just always stay bound to him, no matter how hard he tries to break apart for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel/gifts).



> First off, thank you so much for angel for giving me an AWESOME prompt to work with. Granted, I did stray away from the original premise but I hope that it is still enjoyable to read!  
> Secondly, thank you to the wonderful mods over at [White Collar Reverse Big Bang](http://wc-reverse-bb.livejournal.com) for hosting such an awesome fest - it was so much fun!!

"You're finally home." Neal Caffrey looked up from the file resting on his lap as he heard the door of their condo open. He smiled sympathetically when he saw his usually upbeat wife looking dead on her feet. "Tough day?"

"Definitely," Sara groaned. "I picked up some take-out on the way home though."

Neal smiled. "Chinese?"

"Yeah," he heard her call from the bedroom. He placed the briefs on the coffee table and went into the kitchen to heat the sweet and sour chicken and the Lo Mein.

"So, how was work, sweetie?" Sara asked her husband as she tossed her shoes onto the carpet and sank down into the sofa.

"Great!" he responded cheerfully. He handed her a plate of food and sat down next to her. "I got a new case. It's an odd one though."

"What is it?"

"It's not the usual type of white-collar crime," he explained. "I've told you about Peter Burke, right? He works in D.C. and he's a few levels above me. He's transferring to New York since he's apparently been receiving death threats."

Sara frowned as she flipped through the file, her dinner forgotten. "What does that have to do with your division?"

"He's going to be working with me. Jones, Diana, and I will be in charge of his safety. He's also in white-collar crime so he'll be helping us out and maybe even joining me on some stakeouts. The FBI is hoping that he'll stop receiving these threats if he's placed in a different environment where he won't be directly affecting the D.C. White Collar division."

"So, all you have to do is protect him and make sure that he doesn't get these notes?"

"I guess," Neal agreed as he swirled some Lo Mein onto his fork. "All Hughes told me was that I was in charge of keeping the man safe. He's an important man in D.C. - even trying to get into politics. The FBI doesn't want him dead."

Sara nodded. "That is quite a different case. It'll probably be hard for that poor man though, being tossed into a new world and having to stoop down to a lower level."

Neal just shrugged. "I don't know," he muttered, "if there's a target on his back, he must not be a very nice guy."

"He's a F.B.I. agent. He could be a nice guy. Maybe he just got on the wrong side of someone."

"I really hope that's the case," Neal admitted. "I wouldn't want to be killed by association, even if I'm just doing my job."

\---

Early next morning, more than 200 miles away, Peter Burke sipped his coffee, Folgers instant, as he stared out the window. He could hear Satchmo and Liam running around the house. He'd miss them.

"Hon, breakfast is ready!"

"I'll be there in a sec," he called back distractedly. After another moment of staring at the small yard in front of their equally small home, he walked into the dining room where his wife, Elizabeth, and their son, Liam, were already seated and waiting.

"I'm going to miss you, Dad," Liam mumbled, his mouth full of pancake. "When will you be back? Can you get me something?"

Peter sighed. This was the main problem with being a Fed. He'd been having this same conversation with the six-year-old for the thousandth time and it never got easier. "I don't know when I'll be back, buddy," he started off. "But, maybe you can come visit me! We'll go to a Yankees game."

"Promise?" The little boy held out a pinkie.

Chuckling, Peter wrapped his own little finger around his son's. "I promise."

An hour later, his wife blinked back tears as she tightened Peter's tie. "Please stay safe," she whispered. "We need you to come back to us in one piece."

He nodded, not knowing what to say. "I'll be fine; everything will be all right," he said even though both of them knew that everything wasn't all right. Their relatively peaceful life was being disrupted, all because of one crazy man. He swallowed hard as he heard the taxi honking outside. He then leaned down to kiss El one last time. "I love you, hon," he said. "Be safe."

She nodded with tears running down her cheeks. "Call me as soon as you land," she told him sternly as he gave Liam a hug.

"I will," he told her with a weak smile. He hugged his wife and stepped outside towards the taxi. Once the driver started the car, he waved one last time before his house disappeared into the horizon.

\---

"Peter Burke?" A tall brown-haired man in a well-tailored power suit walked up to the older man outside of the private hangar of JFK airport with a hand extended. "I'm Neal Caffrey."

Peter smiled tightly and shook the younger man's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Are you ready to go?"

Peter gestured to his luggage. "I got this so yeah, I'm all set."

Nodding, Neal led the older man towards the parking lot. They stopped in front of a BMW convertible and Peter gaped. "That's not standard-issue in New York, is it?" he asked wryly.

Neal laughed. "I could only wish. I was offered a Ford Focus but my wife had bought me this one for my 30th birthday."

"That's a helluva gift."

"Tell me about it; she told me I was getting old and that I should be prepared for a mid-life crisis then handed me the keys."

Peter glanced over at the younger agent. Neal Caffrey didn't seem the type to be part of the F.B.I. By the looks of his suit and tie, he was more likely to the poster child of Wall Street. "So, how long have you been an agent?"

"For a few years now," the other man answered curtly and after that, Peter just glanced out the window and watched the bright and cheery streets go past and after what seemed like forever, they rolled to a stop outside of a tall building that he recognized as the F.B.I New York headquarters. Neal turned around and grinned. "Welcome to New York, Agent Burke."

\---

Neal tried to sense _something_ about the older man but he was absolutely unreadable. Peter Burke held a strong façade and even though Neal was excellent at reading people, he couldn't figure out a thing.

They walked into the bullpen and immediately, Hughes was standing next to them with a hand outstretched. "Welcome, Agent Burke," he said warmly. "It's wonderful to have you here with us."

Peter glanced around the area and saw people bustling around and chatter could be heard from all directions. It was nothing like his old office. "It's nice to be here," he agreed. "Hopefully, I can stay here without any concerns."

Hughes' face lost its' excitement and he nodded thoughtfully. "Yes…" he finally started, "we have to talk about your safety."

"I don't want some bodyguard," Peter insisted. "I can protect myself."

"No one said anything about bodyguards," Hughes replied with a laugh, "but, I'll keep that in mind. We really need to discuss your living situation since we can't just put you in a random hotel."

"He can stay with me," Neal offered quickly. "At least for a few days before he finds a place."

"That'll work," his boss agreed. "Agent Burke, you can stay with Caffrey here for the rest of the week and by then, we'll find a suitable home for you."

As soon as Hughes left, Peter turned to Neal and shook his head. "You didn't have to do that," he said quietly. "I would've been fine on my own."

"I know you'll be fine but you shouldn't have to be alone in a place that you barely know. Also, I can keep a better eye on you then without a bodyguard."

Peter nodded. "Thanks."

\---

"Hey Sara," Neal said into the phone during his lunch break. "Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah, is anything wrong?" his wife asked worriedly.

"How do you feel about a guest living with us for a few days?"

She frowned, looking confused. "Who? None of our friends called me."

Neal laughed. "Uh, yeah, that's because he's not one of our friends. Do you remember me mentioning Peter Burke? We're still organizing a safe place for him to stay and I figured that I could get to know him better."

"Oh okay, that's okay," she agreed. "Nothing's wrong though, right? Is he all right or should I start worrying about people coming out of the woodwork and scoping out the apartment?"

"Nothing's wrong. Don't worry," he assured his wife, knowing how paranoid she could be when it came to him and his past indiscretions. "You know that this has nothing to do with me."

Sara let out a sigh. Yes, she did know that Neal had nothing to do with Peter Burke but at the same time, harboring a person with a target on his back was still a dangerous prospect when living with an F.B.I. agent. "I know," she finally replied, "but you know me. Can't stop worrying."

\---

Later that night, Neal pulled into the underground garage and parked his car. "Just one suitcase?" he asked Peter.

"I packed light since I'm hoping that I can be home within the next week."

Neal chuckled under his breath. Until the FBI caught the man who was after Agent Burke, he'd probably be stuck in New York. Peter Burke definitely had high hopes.

"So, I talked to Hughes and he said that you should have a place to stay by tomorrow night. I think there's an empty apartment near Jones' house that will work."

"That's great to hear," Peter said with a grin as they rode up the elevator to the fifth floor of the fancy building. Neal pulled out his keys and unlocked the door and called, "Hey, we're home," as they made their way inside.

"Hi," a pretty strawberry blond said to Peter after kissing Neal on the cheek, "I'm Sara. I've heard so much about you."

Peter glanced at Neal and the younger man shrugged. "I talk about my cases sometimes," Neal admitted with a smile. "I know it's against protocol but she knows a lot about White Collar."

"I hope you've heard all good things," Peter said to Sara as she led him into the living room.

"Actually," she replied, "all I've heard is that you're very good at your job and that you need a place to stay."

"Hopefully not for too long," Peter muttered. "I just want to go home."

Sara smiled sympathetically. Whenever she'd have to go on business trips, she'd count down the days until she could come home. "If you don't mind me asking, do you have a family back in Washington?"

"Yeah, my wife and son are back home," the F.B.I. agent shared. "I never travelled much for work before so it's really tough to leave them and under these circumstances, it's even worse."

Neal walked into the room, holding a bottle of wine and a beer. "I thought you could use this," he said with a slight smile, handing the FBI agent a beer. "It's been a very long day for you. I hope you're a beer guy. I couldn't picture you drinking wine."

Peter took the drink gratefully. There was nothing like a cool beer to calm the nerves. "I do like beer. And, yeah, it has been a long day," he admitted. "I haven't even been here a day and I'm already missing home."

"I'm sure you're worried about everything too. It must add to the homesickness," Neal agreed.

Peter simply nodded but he knew what was really bothering him. Sure, he missed El and Liam but he was more concerned about Keller. Keller could wreck everything and Peter couldn’t let that happen. Ever since learning that he had a bulls-eye on his back, he'd had a lingering thought that… No. It wasn't true. It _couldn't_ be true. He suddenly flinched when he heard a snap. He looked up to see Neal looking down at him nervously.

"Are you all right, Peter? Would you like a glass of water?"

"Do you know who Keller is?" Peter asked without preamble. "Have you read that part of my file yet?"

Neal winced. Bad things always followed that man. "I've heard the name – he's a forger. But no, I don't really know who he is," he lied easily. "I'm in White Collar so his name has been tossed around but I've never really read up on him."

"I'm pretty sure he's the one after me."

"What?" Neal exclaimed. "He's a forger! They usually aren't out for blood." But, even though his mouth was saying one thing, he knew that Keller was _always_ out for blood. Matthew Keller would do anything to win, let alone kill a man. Neal swallowed down the last part of his wine and quickly poured some more. "Why don't we continue this discussion in the morning?" he suggested rapidly. "It's been a long day and I'm pretty sure I'd want to take notes during this discussion."

"Okay," Peter agreed. "We'll talk about this tomorrow." Grabbing his now-empty bottle from the coffee table, he walked into the kitchen.

"You didn't need to bring that in," Sara said when he moved to set the beer bottle into the sink. "I can do it."

"It's fine," he said quietly. "My wife would've yelled at me if I had left it there, complaining of water stains on the coffee table. It helps regain some normalcy, you know."

Sara smiled softly. "Yeah, I know what you mean. And, Peter," she called as Peter moved to go to the guest bedroom. He turned back and she continued, "Don't be a stranger. I know we don't know each other at all but if you need anything, let me know. Anything," she repeated.

"I will," he replied with a slight smile as he continued back to the guest bedroom. Maybe New York wouldn't be _terrible_.

Once Peter had unpacked his meager set of belongings into the drawers that the Caffreys had provided, he pulled out his cell phone and typed in the ever-familiar number.

"Hey hon," El answered on the first ring and for the first time that day, Peter truly smiled.

"Hey hon," he responded. "How's everything?"

"It's fine," she said but she didn't sound like she believed herself.

"Come on, El. I want the truth," he pestered.

He could hear light sniffles. "It’s not okay!" his wife finally cried into the phone. "I miss you and I've been worrying about you, and I just don't know. I know you're safe there but you must be in some seedy hotel, alone and –"

"El," Peter interrupted. "Guess what? I'm not in a seedy hotel. I'm actually at Agent Caffrey's house. He's the one in change of my case. I had a cold beer, home-cooked food, and I'm not alone. I do wish that it were you and Liam keeping me company but it could be worse."

"I know that you will be fine but I just want you to come home safe," Elizabeth implored, repeating her same words from earlier. "And, you better catch whoever's doing this to you."

Peter swallowed hard. If his hunch was right, Agent Caffrey's job had become a lot harder. "I'm hoping for the same thing," he told Elizabeth before saying his goodbyes to both his son and wife and hanging up.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Peter woke up early and was able to see the darkened sky and the moon still peeking over the skyscrapers. It was weird, not being able to see some green grass or hear Satchmo barking over seeing a bird through the porch door. He tiptoed into the bathroom and showered, and even after he had made his way into the kitchen, nobody else in the house had risen. He then checked his watch and saw that it was only 5:50 – too early for some people.

"Hey Peter." He turned around to see Sara smiling at him, already clad in some sort of exercise gear. "Would you like breakfast?" She then smiled apologetically. "Normally, Neal does all the cooking but I do make a mean bowl of cereal."

"Cereal's fine," Peter replied with a grin. "I don't cook much either so I'm really grateful that you've let me stay here for a few days."

She laughed. "It's really not a problem. We love company. In fact, we're hosting a dinner party tomorrow night and if you're not here, we'd love to have you."

"I really wish I could say yes - hell knows I'd enjoy the food more than room service or a sandwich," Peter replied. "But, I can't. I don't think your husband and the other agents would allow it."

Sara shook her head. How terrible must it be not to even be allowed to eat dinner with some strangers without worrying if they were going to kill you. "I really hope that your job isn't always like this," she said sympathetically.

"It's really not. I was just another paper-pusher but I did work cases once or twice a month. In fact, bringing down Keller was one of my biggest scores."

Keller. That little devil. Sara knew all about that asshole and nothing good was ever found around him.  "I'll bet," she replied conversationally, turning back to the fridge to grab some milk for her coffee.  "I have to run," she continued, "I'm heading out to the gym and then to work but please, help yourself to anything in the kitchen before you guys head out."

Peter nodded his thanks as he too, pilfered through the fridge.  After all, he'd need his energy for the impending conversations at the Bureau.

\---

"Ready to go?" Neal asked as he grabbed an apple from the bowl lying on the center of the table and his briefcase.  

"Yeah," Peter replied. "I'm ready."

As they made their way to the FBI office, Peter tapped his fingers on his leg nervously.  Neal raised an eyebrow at Peter.  "Nervous?" he asked.

"Just a little," Peter admitted.  "I know that Keller has something to do with this.  I just can't figure out what."

"We're going to catch him," Neal promised.  "I know that it's hard for you to just sit here, not doing anything, but we have an excellent team here.  You've already met Diana and Hughes, and today, you'll meet Jones.  All of them are very competent agents and are going to get this solved, Peter."

Peter nodded but he knew that the younger agent was just very confident and that he may not actually succeed.  Of course, he wanted Caffrey to succeed, even if it was just to get the target off his back, but sometimes there was just no winning.

\---

"Jones," Neal called once he and Peter had made it safely and stealthily into the buliding, "meet Agent Peter Burke."

"Agent Burke," Jones, a tall, African-American man, said with a smile.  "Very nice to meet you."

Peter shook the hand that was extended to him and smiled back.  "Nice to meet you too."

"You and Diana have found some information on Keller, right?" Neal asked.

"Yes, sir," Jones responded.  "And it's some pretty great stuff.  I think we've actually got a good case going here and a good suspect too."

"Okay, let't meet in the conference room in fifteen minutes."

"All right," Jones announced, tossing a bunch of case files around.  "Here's everything we've got on Keller.  Basically, he's on the run.  A painting was stolen from the Guggenheim a few days ago - Landscape near Antwerp by Georges Braque - and Keller is the lead suspect.  Currently, we don't have clear eyes on him but we have seen him around New York.  We think he's targeting Agent Burke because Agent Burke was the one to put him in prison for multiple years.  Clearly, he doesn't want to get caught again."

"Okay, that's all great but what about my situation?" Peter asked.  "I'm not trying to pressure anyone but I would like to know when I can return to D.C."

"Trust me Burke," Hughes grumbled, "we don't want to hold you hostage here either.  We're trying our best - let us do our job and then you can go home."

Chastised, Peter just nodded.  He should've known better than to try to interfere in an ongoing investigation.  

After two hours of solidly going though all the evidence, Neal finally called a break.  "Okay guys, let's get some lunch and meet back in an hour or so.  Again, I want to get this wrapped up as soon as possible.  And, I'm leaving to go eat lunch with my wife but if anything important comes up, let me know immediately all righht?"  And, then, with chouruses of "yes, Caffrey," everyone filed out of the room except for Jones and Neal.

"Are you going to tell him about your connection to Keller?" Jones asked quietly after making sure the room was clear.  "It's probably not relavent but should he know?"

Neal shook his head.  "My past has already upset multiple higher-ups in the Bureau.  I don't need him to also be angry and irrational, especially at a time when he's most vurnerable.  I'll call Mozzie on my way to lunch and have him start looking for Keller."

"Okay," Jones agreed.  

\---

"Hey where are you," Sara asked into her phone, glancing around, hoping to see Neal.  

"I was caught up at work," he said.  "Want to meet me at the coffee place on Lex instead?"

"Sure, I could go for a bagel.  See you then!"

Neal spotted Sara a few minutes later and waved his hand.  "Sara," he called, "over here!"

"Neal!"  Sara pulled up a chair and sank down.  "How's the case?"  

"We've got leads on Keller and Moz is tying up loose ends.   Hopefully, we can find Keller soon and at least arrest him for something, if not the attempted murder of Burke."

"But, what about painting?  Why would he steal it?"

Neal shrugged.  "That's the only part that doesn't make sense.  Braque is a great painter and his paintings do sell for millions but that's only if you go through an auction house and obviously, you can't do that with a stolen painting."

"Duh."  Sara glanced at her watch.  "So, want to walk me back to work?"

Neal extended out a hand.  "Of course, madame.  I wouldn't think of doing otherwise."

With a laugh, Sara took the extended hand and they made their way down the sidewalk.

\---

"Caffrey."  A smooth voice called out  and Neal turned around to see Matthew Keller leaning against a building.

"Keller," Neal responded, holding on to Sara's arm just a bit tighter.  "Long time, no see."

"Yeah, you can say that again," the other man scoffed.  He glanced down.  "You've lost the anklet, become an agent.  Life has treated you well, Caffrey.  But, I wish I could say the same for myself."

"You should've been careful," Neal ground out.  "I was.  And, now, I'm living the life, so to speak."

"Clearly."  Keller coughed loudly.  "I think that you're going to enjoy this next part."  Suddenly, two men popped out around the corner.  Before Neal could draw his gun, it was taken from the holster by one of the guys.  "So," Keller continued.  "Are you going to come quietly or do I need to tie you both up?"

\---

They went quietly.  What choice did they have?  Neal and Sara soon found themselves in a small abandoned warehouse somewhere off the main city grid, probably near the river.  Neal couldn't help but beat himself up over the fact that he couldn't take down the two goons and Keller - he was an F.B.I agent, for god's sake!  But, when Sara's life was also at stake, taking that kind of a risk was unnecessary.   "What do you want with us, Keller?" he asked finally.  "I know you want something from either me or Agent Burke."

"Burke's just an annoying asshole who made me rot in jail for four years.  He deserves to be spooked.  You however, Caffrey, I have lots of uses for."

"Come on, Keller, let's make this fast," Neal grumbled.  "I have places to be and both I and Sara have lives outside of conspiring with you."

Keller rolled his eyes.  "Look at you Caffrey, a little lawman.  Mozzie must hate you now.  What I need from you is your support in general.  I know about your very bloody past and I'm sure certain people wouldn't want to find out about you being even worse than I am.  I'm sure people in New York and some higher-ups know about your past but the whole bureau - probably not.  In exchange for my silence, I want you to keep me off the Bureau's hit list."

"So, basically you're blackmailing me so that I won't bring you in when you commit a crime, right?" Neal clarified sarcastically.  "Sounds absolutely like a way to get me in jail."

"Neal, you know that you'd be wrecked if I spilled the beans.  I mean, you were supposed to spend forever on your anklet and work for that Hughes guy.  You weren't supposed to be set free but you were.  So, do you really want that peace to be lost because you couldn't do a favor for an old friend?"

"I'll think about," Neal finally muttered, knowing that saying no would get him shot.  "Maybe my freedom does mean that much to me."

"Sure Caffrey.  And, I'm three years old. Tell you what," Keller continued, taking out some pieces of cloth.  "How about you hang out here and think about it."  He then pulled out a vial.  "Both of you are going to drink this.  Half each.  Can't have you breaking out of your handcuffs."

\---

"Where's Neal?" Jones asked Peter.  "He usually only leaves for an hour or so if he has lunch with Sara."

Peter shrugged.  "I haven't seen him.  Have you called him?"

"Yeah, multiple times."  Jones shrugged.  "If he doesn't show up in another half an hour, I'll call the Marshals and see if they can pull up his phone data to figure out where's he's been."

"You know," Peter mused.  "Do it now.  It's better to err on the side of caution."

Jones frowned but nodded.  "Hey, if that's what you think is right, that's what we'll do."  He pulled out his BlackBerry from his pocket and pressed a few buttons.  "I'll get on it right now."  He then walked away, already lifting up the phone to his ear.   A few minutes later he returned, a worried look cast on his face.  "Something's wrong," he announced.  "Neal's phone was last picked up near the docks before the Marshas lost the trace.  But, there would be no reason for him to be near the docks since there's nothing there and neither him or his wife work anywhere near there."

"Let's check it out," Peter said.  "What if Keller got him?"

"If Keller got him, it would be okay," Jones muttered.  "Keller would need to keep him alive."

"What do you mean?" 

"Oh nothing.  I mean, who'd kill an F.B.I agent?  That would just be stupid," Jones quickly covered up, realizing his slip up.  "Let go to the docks and look around.  There are a bunch of abandoned warehouses and we might have some luck there."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a picture of the painting that was stolen by Keller:  
>   
> It is really on display in the Guggenheim and you can read more about it [here](http://www.guggenheim.org/new-york/collections/collection-online/artwork/671). Also, the painting's price has been estimated based on another one of Braque's paintings that was sold through Sotheby's, which you can see [here](http://www.sothebys.com/en/auctions/ecatalogue/2013/impressionist-modern-art-evening-sale-n08987/lot.23.html).


	3. Chapter 3

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Jones finally pulled into a parking space near the docks, followed by other F.B.I. agents in a larger truck.  He breathed in deeply and made sure that his gun was holstered before exiting the car.  "Ready?" he asked Peter. 

"As ready as can be, I suppose," Peter replied.  

"Good.  You look left and I'll look right," Jones directed.  He then let the other agents know which way to go and then, left with his team.  Peter and his team then went to the right side of the docks to all the warehouses.  "Okay," Peter said, "let's look in each of the buildings.  Everyone, take one." 

\---

After entering four different buildings, Peter hadn't seen anybody, let alone the Caffreys.  He entered a fifth building and called out a 'hello' even if it were to scare away intruders.  Then, he finally heard something!  Noises.

As Peter moved through the buliding, grunts could be heard from the back room and Peter felt that this was it. He was finally close to Sara and Neal. "Neal? Sara?" he called. "If it's you, scream." He then heard a muffled sound that was very close to a scream. He then let out the breath that he hadn't even realized he had been holding in.  Althugh he'd barely known them for a week, he already felt attached to the young couple.

He slowly opened the door with one hand, gun still clamped around the other and peered in. In a corner sat Sara and Neal, both tied up, albeit loosely, and gagged.

"We've been drugged," Neal grumbled, half-asleep. "Someone's been coming. Knew that I could get out."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, somehow inertly knowing that Neal didn't mean to say what he just had said.

"The handcuffs. I've always been able to escape easily," Neal muttered groggily, fading fast.  "Even escaped from some prisons in a past life."

Peter's eyes narrowed.  Was Neal even what he said he was?  "Okay, Neal," he said before he ended up jumping to conclusions, "I'm going to radio Jones and tell him that I've found you.  Then, we're going to have a little chat."

Peter heard a soft "okay..." and then saw Neal slump over, fast asleep again. 

"Are they okay?" Jones asked when he made his way into the room. 

"They're fine," Peter said.  "But we need to wake up Neal.  I need some things to be clarified."

\---

"What's with you and jail?" Peter asked without preamble once he and Neal had taken a seat inside the large truck.  "You were saying something about it."

Neal cleared his throat.  "I was in jail for a few years," he started off.  "Bond forgery, allegedly.  Then, I escaped.  I was caught by Hughes and served as his CI for four years.  Then, I went and got my law degree and came back to work for Hughes as a consultant, Hughes pulled some strings, and I was able to become an agent."

"Why did Keller want you?"

Neal sighed.  Wherever he went, Keller and his past never seemed to escape him.  A few years before, a treasure and Keller stealing it had almost landed him in jail and now, prison could again become a possibility.  "Keller and I were partners for a number of years.  Then, we broke things off, I straightened out my life, and he's resented me for it ever since.  And, by the way, he just wanted to kill you because you caught him.  There was no other reason"

"That doesn't matter.  You worked with him?" Peter exclaimed. "Who the hell let you even become an agent?  Is that even allowed?"

Neal let out a sigh. "This is why I didn't tell you," he muttered. "I was allowed to become an agent because Hughes changed my life. I finally realized all the things I had done wrong and changed myself. I'm different from Keller and you should know that by now.  I worked very hard to protect you; I even put my wife in danger."

"Are you even trained!?"

Neal shook his head and glared at Peter. "You really think the FBI would authorize a badge and a weapon to someone who wasn't certified? Yes, I have a record but it's not for murder, or anything of that sort. I paid my debts, went to law school, did everything I had to do."

"Fine.  You did everything by the book.  But, you're a criminal!" 

"I know that!" Neal yelled.  "Do you know how much trouble Hughes went through to get me issued a gun?  A badge?  My original deal?  Somehow, I got lucky and I was able to get this deal.  Other have tried and have been stuck as CIs.  I don't know why I got picked but I did and I'm not about to screw it up."

"Okay," Peter agreed. "You're good.  But what about Keller?  Don't we need to stop him?"

"He hasn't done anything wrong," Neal argued.  "And no, I'm not trying to protect him.  He didn't even kidnap me and Sara.  We relatively came on our own will.  Sure, he twisted our hands but we were the ones to walk here."

Just then, Jones barged into the truck.  "Keller's here. And, he has the painting.  We need to get him," he burst out.  

"This isn't over," Peter said before following Jones out the door.  Letting out a deep breath, Neal also jumped out and broke out into a run.  "I see Keller," he called out into his radio that Jones had handed him before leaving the truck.  "Near the far left building - it's brick!"

"Got it," Diana, who had arrived with her own team, said back.  She ran towards the building but Keller had turned back.  

"I'll get him,"  Neal yelled.  He ran towards Keller, but the other man had decided to fire some shots.  "You better not shoot me, Keller," Neal called.  "Or else, that will really let me lock you away for a long time.

"I'm not afraid of you, Caffrey," Keller screamed, pulling the trigger a  few more times.  

"Keller," Neal yelled one more time once he got close enough to Keller. "Stop right there!"

"What are you going to do?" Keller goaded, waving his gun around. "Shoot me?"

"I have a gun," Neal retorted. "It kind of came with the badge. Don't goad me, Keller. We can work something out."

"Sure, and world peace is going to be on the top of my list." Keller snorted. "You're not going to save me."

Neal nodded. "That's true. I can't save you from screwing up your life. But, I can save you from a lifetime in jail. You've been there before and you're going to end up there again, locked up forever, if you don't cooperate."

"Wow Caffrey. You've really turned into a Suit," Keller mused, and he turned around and broke into a fast run. Neal sprinted after him, yelling to the other agents to follow Keller in the van. Five minutes later, he was completely out of breath and by the looks of it, so was Keller. "Stop running," he wheezed out. "I'm going to catch you." Suddenly regaining strength, he ran even faster, the adrenaline filling his bloodstream, and shoved Keller to the ground. "You're under arrest," he said grimly. "I caught you."

"So you did, Caffrey," Keller gasped. "But, this ain't far over."

\---

"You caught him," Peter said when Neal dragged Keller to the FBI vehicles lined up on the side of the street. "Congrats."

Neal nodded. "It was a long time coming," he added as he handed Keller over to Diana so that she, along with a few other agents, could escort him back to jail. "Are you still upset?"

"What? That you didn't tell me, a complete stranger, your past?" Peter shook his head. "It was none of my business and I had no right to be upset with you. You know, my sixth sense told me to stay out of it but I just couldn't. I needed to know what you were hiding and now, I regret my urges."

"I forgive you, Peter," Neal said after a moment of silence. "Don't worry. Now, you can go home. Back to D.C.  If you want to do some inquires, I wouldn't be upset."

"Yeah, back to D.C.," Peter agreed. "Can't wait to see Liam and El again. It's been so long, I've gotten used to New York a little too."

Neal nodded. "That's New York for you. She's got her quirks but can always win someone over."

"Thanks, Neal," Peter finally said after a minute. He let out a breath. "I would've been dead if it weren't for you. Now, I can go home and see my wife and son. You went really above and beyond the call of duty."

"Hey, that's the job description, isn't it?" Neal joked then became serious. "But, you're welcome. I'm glad I could help."

"I really do appreciate it," Peter repeated. "You know, if you're ever in the area, we should have dinner on me. It's the least I could do."

"Now, you might just find me and Sara in your guestroom permanently," Neal replied with a laugh.

"And about your situation," Peter continued, "I'm probably going to take a peek at your folder.  Learn more about the infamous Neal Caffrey.  But don't worry, I won't risk your position here."

"Thank you Peter.  And," Neal cleared his throat, "if you have any questions about the file, let me know."

"That I will." 

\---

"Agent Burke has returned home safely," Diana reported the next day.  "He's been reunited with his family and is now going back to work safely.  DC's assigned him a bodyguard for the next few days, just to be sure, but we're pretty sure that the threat has been taken care of."

"Good to hear," Neal replied, a smile cast on his face.  "Are we ready to talk to Keller?"

Diana nodded.  "That was the second thing I was going to tell you.  We're going to talk to him right now."

Neal nodded. "Lead the way!"

Within a few minutes, Diana and Neal were sitting across from Keller, who was already wearing a orange jumpsuit.  "So," Neal asked.  "let's start off with an easy one.  Did you try to kill an F.B.I. agent?"

"Well Caffrey, I might've.  But, I can't say for sure," Keller replied cockily.  

"But you did steal that painting," Diana pointed out.  "Your fingerprints are all over it.  So, don't even bother denying that. That'll at least leave you in jail for a few years."

"True enough," Neal agreed with a smirk.  "Case closed."


End file.
